


Casting Stones

by esteoflorien



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteoflorien/pseuds/esteoflorien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Troubled by worry over the choice of the Peredhil, during her pregnancy with Arwen Celebrian seeks out an ancient elf, the fortune-teller of Gondolin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casting Stones

                It was raining in Imladris the night Celebrian sought out the fortune-teller from Gondolin, a rare event, but convenient, given that the spring planting had just been completed. Though she and Elrond had married for love, in certain matters her husband kept his own counsel, and for her part, Celebrian never pressed him. She was of the belief that some things – like a heavy, gilded ring with a wide-set stone that could be felt, but never seen – were best left unsaid.

                Fortune-telling bad been foreign to Celebrian when she arrived in Imladris. In Lothlorien, her mother had been her advisor, passing along scenes from her mirror as she saw fit. Though she rarely indulged, Celebrian had not been above asking her mother to cast her glance into the future for her, when she was a girl, though she would never think of doing it now. Being around Elrond had changed her, Elrond who had never desired to shape the future by foreshadowing its course. When she was young, she cultivated the fine art of asking her mother for just a bit less information than she really needed to know, so that she could happily while away her days devising ways to win the affections of the mysterious dark-haired ellon who haunted her mother’s mirror.

                Galadriel’s magic was practically tangible, Elrond’s more subtle, and at times Celebrian found it difficult to decide which was worse. The fortune-teller of Gondolin possessed magic of an ostentatious sort – her natural gifts, _if she has any at all_ , Erestor would snort – supplemented and obscured by a variety of tools. When Celebrian had first come to Imladris, she had been fascinated by the way the fortune-teller tossed polished stones into circles chalked on the ground, by the quiet intensity of her gaze as she mapped the stars or contemplated her cards. Rumors abounded in Imladris about the fortune-teller’s upbringing – for elven though she certainly was, these little idiosyncrasies marked her as different. Celebrian often wondered why the fortune-teller had never sought the West, having seen so many wars, but the ever-dwindling Gondolin community in Imladris kept their secrets.

                It is a terrible thing, Celebrian knows, to be continually afraid for her children’s future. Her boys do not concern her as much. For one thing, they are their father’s heirs, and have been raised accordingly. Moreover, they are a unit: there will always be two of them, for as long as they live. She has no need to fear for them, when they will always have each other. She can even see herself accepting their fate if they make Luthien’s choice, for they will choose together, she is certain. But this child, this little elfling growing inside her, does not have a twin, and though she is just-about-certain that this will be her much-desired daughter, she cannot help but worry what this child will choose.

                She knows what Elrond would say, if she were to ask him. He would tell her that there’s no use borrowing trouble from a future that will come soon enough. She would have to look beyond his placid, placating words, into his eyes, and at his hands, reading between his lines as only a wife can read her husband’s unsaid words. Elrond is loath to trouble her, and even if he did see some of the child’s future, he would not share it anyway.

                Her mother might humor her, but more than likely not. Celebrian entertained the thought of asking her mother to look at what lies ahead for her unborn child, but demurred. Sometimes she forgets that she is the unusually young daughter of two extraordinarily ancient elves. As a child in Ost-in-Edhil, it had been possible to forget that she was the daughter of a Noldor princess, descended from the high elven kings and child of Aman, and the Sindar prince who laid claim to an equally sterling lineage. Her parents were powerful elves, and her mother had always inspired in her a degree of awe. Her father, to whom she had been closer as a child, was also known to her as a great archer and skilled general. She was not blind to her parents’ accomplishments, but that knowledge never made her self-conscious.

                It was easy, in fact, for Celebrian to forget that the choices of Peredhil were not ancient history to her parents, as they were to her. Even Elrond, her husband, had declared his fate amongst the Firstborn a good thousand years before she knew him. But for Celeborn and Galadriel, she knew that the losses of Luthien, of Nimloth, and even of Earendil and Elwing weighed heavily on their hearts. They had not dissuaded her from her choice when she accepted Elrond’s suit, though they knew firsthand what would come. She would not add to the sorrow of their long years by asking her mother about the fates of her tiny children.

                The fortune-teller of Gondolin, however, being a child of that city, would no doubt understand her anxiety, for she knew of Idril and Tuor, and the history of the sons of Earendil. Celebrian knew not what truths were hidden in the fortune-teller’s shiny stones that had been carefully guarded during her escape from the walled city, but she could no longer bear the weighty uncertainty that threatened to overshadow this much-anticipated pregnancy.


End file.
